A Milder Fate
by Scribbler
Summary: [one shot] Sonic the Hedgehog is dead. His death creates a crisis of faith in the friends he leaves behind. How do you go on fighting evil when your biggest inspiration just proved his own mortality?


Disclaimer – (noun) From the Latin. Directly translates as 'to cover one's ass'. All characters in this fic are copyrighted by Sega and DiC, and are used without their prior knowledge or consent, but with oodles of respect.

A/N – This can be read as a standalone, but it was originally written as a companion piece to _Sonic After Life_ by Orin. So, if you want the full effect, you should read that one, too – though whether before or after this is up to you. Just type 'Orin' into the FFN search engine, follow the links and you'll find it. The title comes from Aeschylus's _Agamemnon_, and I quote: 'Death is a better, a milder fate than tyranny.'

Feedback_ –_Please, please, please, please, **please**.

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'_A Milder Fate'_ By Scribbler

© October 2004

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_When I lie where shades of darkness_

_Shall no more assail mine eyes,_

_Nor the rain make lamentation_

_When the wind sighs,_

_How will fare the world whose wonder_

_Was the very proof of me? _

-- 'Fare Well' by Walter de la Mare.

* * *

* * *

Sally had barely said a word since it happened. Bunnie had ended up giving most of the orders out of Robotropolis, thankful people listened and Antoine didn't see fit to call her on it. They were all sort of stunned. Not for the first time, Bunnie thanked whatever deities chose to listen that Tails had been left on duty at the lookout post. It made him feel important and useful, while at the same time allaying their fears for his safety.

Sally's eyebrows had been trying to climb into her hairline all the way home. Bunnie flew their trans-pod facsimile with her customary steady hand. At least her mechanical arm was good for something. She tried not to look at Sally, respecting her friend's right to privacy, if not grief.

She hadn't expected the grieving to kick in yet. It was still too fresh – in all their minds.

Rotor had been assigned the awful task of getting Sonic away from the line of fire while they covered his back. Now he fiddled with the pouches of his utility sash and tried to scrape off the dirt and blood. Antoine just stared straight ahead, nose lifted in that way he did when he wasn't quite sure how to react to a comment. Usually it was because of something Sonic had said: an insult that wasn't an insult, a compliment dressed up to look like a slur, or vice versa. He was good at those.

"_Like the hair, Sal. You should grab open wires more often."_

"_Of course I'm being respectful. I'm trying to see things from your point of view. I just can't get my head that far up my own butt."_

"_You're really in fashion, Ant. I hear stupid is the new black this year."_

Then he'd flash them a rakish grin and be off and gone before they had chance to react. And when they saw him again, he'd be glowing from his latest victory, or he'd act like nothing was up. There was just something about Sonic in a good mood that made it difficult to stay mad at him. True, oft times he bordered on Most Annoying Beast of the Year, and when he got a flea in his ear about something he could be downright obstinate; but that was Sonic. As with all beasts, you took the good with the bad. And there was a lot of good in him.

'Was' being the operative term, now.

Past tense.

It didn't seem real.

They disembarked in the central clearing; near the dead embers of the campfire they held every evening after a mission. There was a small party of creatures there to greet them, and since they hadn't radioed ahead Bunnie could only assume they'd been waiting around since they left the previous evening. The position of the moon in the sky told her it was scant hours until dawn, yet it felt like only a few minutes had passed since they landed in Robotropolis and split off into groups. All except Sonic, that is. Sally's plan had hinged on his speed, and his speed worked best when he didn't have others to worry about, so he'd gone solo.

Dulcy was at the forefront of the crowd. She clapped her hands when the door opened, but stopped when she saw their faces – stopped when she saw what blood Rotor hadn't been able to rub off his hands and front.

Bunnie stole a glance at Sally, who wore an expression that could only be described as 'queenly': all poise and calm and composure. She stepped off the access ramp and surveyed the group, then cleared her throat.

"There will be no victory party today. Our mission was... unsuccessful." Her voice betrayed no emotion.

What followed was the sound of a thousand snakes hissing. Sally waited until the whispers died down before speaking again. Her words carried clearly, and it was easy to see the result of a childhood's worth of elocution lessons.

"If all Freedom Fighters would gather in my hut, I have something to address them with. Everyone else should return to his or her duties, effective immediately."

Bunnie felt her mouth twist into a tiny frown. Sally sounded more like royalty than usual. Beasts tended to refer to her as 'Princess' as a mark of respect, but she was always the first to slap down treatment of herself as such. She was grounded, pulling her weight as much as the next beast, and rarely given to the trappings of blue blood. She didn't even pull rank that often. When she gave orders, it was more as a valued strategist. They listened to her because she knew what she was talking about, and the only time she had to raise her voice was when Sonic got it into his head that he and his feet knew better than all her hours of careful planning with Nicole.

Now she sounded like a general commanding her troops, or the royal she might have been, had the world been a very different place.

The villagers murmured some more, but peeled dutifully away. One or two looked like they wanted to say something, wanted to ask what had gone wrong, but didn't act on the impulse.

When they were all gone, Dulcy flipped her tail from side to side. "You... want I should go get Knuckles, too, Sally?"

Knuckles didn't live in Knothole. He couldn't technically be called a Freedom Fighter, either. He was an ally, but his loyalties were rooted in his birthright – the guardianship of the Chaos Emerald. He never went on raids with them when he _was_ around, nor volunteered to go into Robotropolis as back up. Sonic was always uneasy around him, yet Sally trusted the echidna and valued his opinions. He may have led a somewhat sheltered life, but he was quick-minded and canny enough to strategise just as well as her.

She nodded. Dulcy departed with something like relief, not asking the obvious question: where's Sonic? She didn't need it spelled out that something was terribly, horribly, atrociously wrong.

"So - " Bunnie began, but Sally was already walking towards her hut.

"I... I think I'm gonna go wash," Rotor murmured, withdrawing also. "I need to get cleaned up. I gotta... wash." His claws clacked together far louder than normal. Bunnie heard them long after his footsteps had faded away, right up until the door to his hut-come-workshop closed behind him.

She turned to face Antoine. "You gonna go freshen up, too, sugar?"

Antoine blinked at her for a second. Then her question sank in. He replied with a mishmash of half-finished sentences and wild hand motions, as if by becoming the gesticulation equivalent of a large-print book her could make up for being caught napping. "Oui, I shall be... There are being things that I should... My boots... Shall we be-? I am believing I left some dirty dishes... to be... Zut alors." He shook his head. "C'est impensable."

Bunnie looked back to the transporter. The door was still open and the ramp still down. "Y'all should go get cleaned up, pumpkin. I gotta park this puppy where she belongs." She sighed. "I'll bring Tails in, an' all."

Antoine's eyes were impossibly round. "Mon Dieu..." Obviously, letting the kit know hadn't even crossed his mind. Judging by the state of him, not much was crossing his mind right now.

They'd never lost someone before. Not like this. To the roboticisor, yes, but not like this...

Bunnie turned Antoine around and shoved gently at the small of his back. "Get," she said, quiet but firm. It amazed her how she could sound so calm at a time like this. A small voice in the back of her mind wondered how long it would be before the rest of her caught up with what was happening and went off the deep end, but she told it to shush.

Antoine looked back at her. His eyes ticked to the transporter, and his thought processes were plain as day. He knew what was in there. He knew what she would have to look at if she went back inside; what she would likely have to move once she'd put the vehicle away – a pathetic little bundle that didn't even begin to represent the energy that had filled it in life. He opened his mouth to argue, no doubt possessed of some displaced chivalry.

Bunnie resisted the urge to snort. She'd seen and been through so much in the past decade. Chivalry was an outdated concept to her.

She canted her hips into a challenging stance, planting a fist in her side for good measure. It was her 'don't argue' pose, recognisable even though she didn't use it all that often. "Get," she said again.

And Antoine got.

* * *

* * *

Tails cried all the way to Sally's hut – broken, uncontrollable sobs that decreased to sharp breaths and rhythmic juddering when they neared the door. Bunnie had taken the time to move and properly cover Sonic and scrub herself clean, which meant they were late. Sally was already drawing to a close.

The Freedom Fighters sat and stood around her. She had their attention totally. Where she moved, their eyes followed. Where her voice rose and fell, so did their chests. They all seemed to have been lobotomised with shock – even those who had gone on the mission and had more time to process what happened.

Especially those who had gone on the mission.

Antoine broke his gaze away when Bunnie and Tails entered. He spared Bunnie a nod, but Tails received an expression of contrition so poignant that Bunnie half believed they'd brought back another replicant instead of the real deal. She was convinced otherwise only by the raw pain in his eyes. No robot could emulate that kind of emotion, no matter how convincing it was. Until now, she hadn't thought the ever-fastidious Antoine capable of it, either. He and Sonic weren't exactly best buds. Most of the time it was uncertain whether they even liked each other, or would have had anything to do with each other were it not for Knothole and Sally.

Sally didn't even pause at the sound of the door. "And so the Robotropolis mainframe remains intact, despite our best efforts to crash it. The window of opportunity this mission should have created didn't happen. So, effectively, we're back to square one, only now we have the added problem that security in the exposed sector will have increased back to normal by the time we formulate another plan of attack."

The tension in the room was thick. Bunnie grasped why in an instant. Sally was talking, her mouth was moving and words were coming out, but she wasn't _talking_ – not about the thing on all their minds. She ploughed on, all business, as if this were just another unfortunate mishap that could be overcome by stratagem and a fresh campaign. The Freedom Fighters wanted to know how they were to deal with this new kind of crisis. Sally instead focussed on the familiar kind, yet nobody had plucked up the courage to stop her.

Nobody, that is, except Knuckles.

He was in a chair quite near the front of the room, placing him nearest to Sally after Dulcy's formidable bulk. Dulcy looked uncomfortable at being so close to the spotlight, but she needed to be where the roof apexed to allow room for her head. Knuckles sat with both feet flush against the floor, one elbow on the table, his other fist propping his head. His dark eyes were unfathomable as ever.

Bunnie didn't know quite what to make of Knuckles. In some respects he was a bigger mystery than Lupe and her wolf lore, and that was one of the knottiest knots she'd ever come across. In others, he was the bluntest beast she'd ever met. If there were truth, he would speak it. If there were a difficult situation, then he would wade in with his inimitable brand of logic, whether his actions were welcomed or not. This was one of the things that made Sonic most apprehensive about him. Knuckles was quiet and steady, taking on life with the kind of patience it takes years to cultivate. By comparison, Sonic was his polar opposite. 'Tact' was something he had to be reminded about, 'discretion' was just a word in the dictionary, and when he did apply logic to a situation, it was usually because a reckless approach had already failed to solve anything.

"Sally," Knuckles interjected, "are you going to avoid the issue all night?"

"What issue?" Sally asked, a trifle irritated.

"The issue that's lying in the hangar-lean-to." He shot Bunnie a look, to which she nodded, affirming the location. "I doubt many here have listened to a word you've said, they're so anxious about when you're going to get onto that topic. They may have heard you, but they haven't been _listening_. So how about dropping the charade and dealing with the real matter at hand?"

Sally said nothing for a moment. Bunnie had known her long enough to recognise uncertainty in her eyes, but it was there only an instant before she slammed an open palm down on the tabletop.

The noise was loud, but not enough to merit the collective jump it caused. For Sally to use violence was like seeing a tree uproot itself and walk into a wood-chipper.

Bunnie felt Tails draw closer. She laid her non-metal hand on his shoulder, rotating her thumb in a knot of fur in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. She was a little out of practise. Since getting her robotic parts, few beasts like to touch her. They preferred Sally-style comfort: flesh and blood and real.

Tails was shaking like a leaf, eyes wide as new moons. Bunnie had (unofficially) been an active Freedom Fighter since she was ten years old. She'd seen some terrible things, and had the entirety of her sprawling family robotisicised while she was powerless to help; so she didn't have to stretch far to know what the poor little mite was feeling.

Still, losing someone to roboticisation was so very different to losing them to death. And though Sonic meant a lot to everyone, he meant so much more to Tails...

"You should all get some rest," Sally instructed. Her hand was still flat against the table, her eyes downcast and framed by a frown. "I'll deal with what needs doing. Just be ready to kick out at Robotnik before he has chance to fully recover. We did _some_ damage tonight. I'm not about to let that kind of valuable margin go to waste."

Knuckles said nothing. Neither did anyone else.

Bunnie tried not to notice when Tails started to cry again.

* * *

* * *

The funeral was conducted the next morning, after Dulcy went to fetch Uncle Chuck from his base in Robotropolis. After what happened the last time any of their number went to that dreadful place, Bunnie's heart stayed in her mouth until dragon and hedgehog crested the trees and crash-landed in the meadow. She'd volunteered to signal them in, and the naked pain in Uncle Chuck's diode eyes clutched at her stomach until she felt sick all over again.

Rotor, restless and unable to sleep, had assembled a sort of casket to lay Sonic in. Nobody asked how he knew the correct measurements, and he didn't volunteer the information. He just turned up outside the hangar-lean-to with it before dawn.

They cleaned Sonic up as best they could, performing what rituals and last rites they could remember without proper texts. Those books had been lost when Robotnik took over – locked away somewhere, or burned. Nobody knew. They combed Sonic's spikes over to hide the damage done to the left side of his face. Rotor found a metal bucket to put the rags they'd used in, then set fire to them. The fire burned hot and quick, leaving behind only a small residue of ash.

Bunnie and Antoine finished up carrying the casket to the central clearing, Uncle Chuck leading the procession as tradition demanded, and Rotor trailing behind. They all wore small red bands around their upper left arms. West-Mobian custom held that these Duelos, or mourning bands, had to be worn for a full week after the death of a loved one. In some lands the fabric used was black, but Mobotropolis had always gone with ancient convention and used red to signify the blood of the fallen. Usually, only the blood-related were supposed to wear them, but after losing their families so long ago, the freedom fighters had come to view each other as a loose-knit family unit. It seemed right to tear up whatever red cloth they could find and use it.

Sally didn't put in an appearance until all the other, non-combatant villagers trundled in to pay their respects. She stayed at the back of the group, arms folded. Bunnie had thought her to be fetching Tails, but he arrived on Rosie's arm.

In true West-Mobian tradition, each beast said the same prayer as they passed their fallen hero. It was a simple ditty. In the years before Robotnik's coup it had become little more than a nursery rhyme sung by mothers at bedtime. Now, however, it resumed its true significance.

"_Lay your sleeping head, sweet soul,_

_Pardoned, on my faithless arm._

_Time now for to leave this role,_

_Time now for a sleeping balm._

_Leave your yoke, your load, your play:_

_Essence break and body stale._

_Time and fevers burn away_

_The burdens of an unkind trail._

_Close your eyes. Be not afraid,_

_Keep you not in this place forlorn._

_Go to where all dreams are made._

_Climb the star-ladder and unlock the dawn."_

Bunnie listened to each repetition. The voices were dissonant but sincere, and she took some small comfort in that. Sonic had been a hero. He was Knothole's champion and her childhood friend. True, her relationship with him had never been so deep as with Sally, nor as brotherly as with Tails, but years of shared experience had bred a closeness that didn't need to be pigeonholed to be real. She and Sonic were on the same page.

_Had _been on the same page.

It had struck home, the finality of it all, around half an hour after going to bed. Her pillow had still been damp when she got up scant hours later. Intellectually, she'd known he was gone right from the start. She knew what 'death' meant. Every time they went out on missions, they knew they weren't just risking a trip to Robotsville. They knew the score, each and every one of them.

But emotionally, her mind hadn't caught up with the fact that he was really, truly dead until she had nothing to occupy herself with except counting dust motes. She'd found herself reliving those tense moments, when she and Sally waited behind a trash heap for Sonic to signal the all clear.

"_Nicole, status report."_

"_Processing, Sally."_

"_I sure hope Sugar-hog's okay."_

"_Why shouldn't he be? All he had to do was knock out the security cameras. One quick sweep and he should've been back here. Where in the name of Mobius **is **he? He never takes anything seriously."_

"_Report: one SWATbot patrol, Sector G3. Advancing into Sector G4 and G5. Boundary intersection in one point five minutes."_

"_G5? Ain't that where we're s'posed to hit, Sally girl?"_

"_Nicole, calculate current position of Sonic."_

"_Processing. Report: Sector G5, Sally."_

"_What in the world is he **doing**? He should be out of there by now. Nicole, at present velocity, how long until he reaches this location? We may still be able to pull this off if we can cut those SWATbots off at the pass."_

"_Report: cannot calculate. Present velocity... stationary."_

"_What?"_

"_I think she said he ain't movin', Sally girl."_

"_I know that. Nicole, why isn't he moving?"_

"_Report: I do not know, Sally. Though I detect an anomalous amount of magnetic interference from one SWATbot and one stealth-orb in his vicinity."_

"_Sally, does she mean they got Sugar-hog cornered - ?"_

"_Further report: magnetic anomaly caused by weapons system activation. System identified as standard SWATbot apparatus. Conclusion: SWATbot weapons system recently discharged. Probability of link to Sonic's present velocity: 68."_

"_Oh no..."_

"_Sally girl – Sally, come back! Sally, wait!"_

Rosie was standing by the coffin. She'd brought some flowers with her, which wasn't unusual – there were several single heads scattered around, since it was disrespectful of nature to pick too many – but Bunnie recognised them from her personal garden.

Rosie was one of those few beasts who gardened in her free time, as well as part of her duties. She'd been old when they were children, so she was practically ancient now, but she still insisted on pulling her weight in chores. Of an evening she could often be found on her knees, helping things grow. She once confided that it was her way of thumbing her nose at Robotnik, to make something fresh and new grow while he dedicated himself to wiping everything out. Green plants, and yellow, blue and violet, and a hundred other shades – vegetables and weeds and flowers. Rosie wasn't choosy; she loved them all. She had a special plant for each person in the village, all crowded into the little plot behind her hut.

Bunnie knew without asking that the small blue flowers had been Sonic's special plant. They'd been snipped halfway down their stems, not pulled up but cut short, much like he had. Rosie laid them on his chest, murmured something that wasn't the same prayer as everyone else, then scrubbed at her eyes with arthritic fingers and shuffled away.

Bunnie looked around. It seemed pretty much the whole village had turned out for this. Which was to be expected, she supposed. Sonic was their hero. More than that, he was a symbol of their freedom, an indication that Robotnik wasn't infallible and that Mobius could indeed be set to rights someday. Losing him was more than simply losing a friend, a role model, a hero. In taking Sonic away, Robotnik had struck as big a blow as he had in his original coup.

He'd damaged the survivors' belief that they could win this war.

Knuckles wasn't there. For a second Bunnie's gut pulsed with tendrils of anger. Then she saw a flash of red between the huts. She averted her eyes, allowing the echidna to keep some of his dignity. He didn't do public displays of emotion very well – something Sonic used to goad him about incessantly.

She remembered the previous Summer, the last time Knuckles left his post to visit Knothole. Sonic made it his mission to entice a smile from him, even if it took all visit. Which it had. And even then, the tiny twitch of Knuckles's mouth had only come about when Sonic took an unplanned dip in the river, courtesy of Robecca 2.0.

The last villagers trailed past Sonic. They said their prayers, their goodbyes and whatever else they'd meant to say but never got around to. Some added flowers, some little scraps of paper on which they'd written things they couldn't talk about with other people around.

And then they buried him.

Just like that.

Bunnie and Antoine hefted the casket again and carried it beyond the edge of the village, towards the power-ring pool, where someone had already dug a hole in the ground. Uncle Chuck seemed surprised to see it, but Bunnie recognised the ragged glove-claw marks around the edges. Pushing and shoving a little, they lowered in the makeshift coffin and buried it. It took over an hour. Bunnie's good hand was full of splinters by the end.

Uncle Chuck hadn't been allowed to help with the burial. He was a scientist, but he still held to some of the old tradition. When they finally stepped away he finished his role by adding the marker – a crude, temporary thing reading only name and age, and meant to stay only until they could put together something more fitting. Death was not a total stranger to Knothole. Beasts died of sickness and old age every season; but this was the first young death in a long while, and the first Freedom Fighter. They didn't know quite how to deal with it.

Gradually, everyone peeled away. Life went on. There were chores to do, repairs to be made, and food to be eaten. Eventually only Rosie, Tails, Uncle Chuck and the core Freedom Fighters were left. This pared down even further when Rosie took Tails by the hand and led him away.

"I am being... a strange feeling," Antoine said suddenly. "I am wanting to be doing something elses. This is feeling incompleteness, I am thinking."

"I know what you mean," Rotor admitted. "I don't want to go back home yet, either."

They stood around looking at the marker.

"There's work to be done," Sally said sharply, and spun on her heel.

"Sally girl - " Bunnie reached to take her arm, but the look Sally gave her made her stop.

"What?" she snapped.

"Uh, I..."

"Spit it out, Bunnie. I don't have all day."

"You didn't say no prayer. I thought you was waitin' 'til the others were gone – for a little privacy, like."

Sally's eyes narrowed. "You thought wrong," she said, and walked away without looking back.

Bunnie, Rotor and Antoine watched her go in silence.

Uncle Chuck just stared at the grave of his last remaining relative. If any of them had looked around, they would have realised that robots could cry.

* * *

* * *

"But why don't y'all stay awhile, Uncle Chuck?"

Dulcy nodded in agreement. "Sure. You know Sally set up that special hut for you? Well, it's still there. It wouldn't be any bother to have you stick around, honest."

Uncle Chuck shook his head. "No. While I appreciate the offer, girls, this is exactly the time I need to be in Robotropolis. Robotnik will no doubt be crowing, and if he thinks he's got the drop on you, he'll be planning something big. I have to find out what it is so he doesn't get any more of an upper hand."

Bunnie and Dulcy fell into silence. Much as they hated to admit it, they both knew he was right. Robotnik had been waiting years to get rid of Sonic. It was ridiculous to think he'd let a golden opportunity to cripple his enemies further just pass by.

Even so...

"I know it's tradition that I go into isolation," Uncle Chuck said, pre-empting Bunnie's question. "But tradition doesn't say where I have to do it. Robotropolis is just as good as here."

They stopped by the edge of the meadow. Dulcy sighed and asked, "You're sure you won't reconsider?"

"Positive."

"All right then." She bent her neck and hunkered down, putting all her weight on her haunches. One of her wings tipped to one side, allowing Uncle Chuck to clamber into the saddle without damaging the membrane. "But if you wanna come back, you signal us right away, okay? I'll be there in a flash."

"I don't doubt it, Dulcy."

"Hey, Bunnie, you coming along for the ride?"

Bunnie scuffed her feet, kicking up a sod of soil and wet grass. "Naw. I'm fixin' to do... some stuff."

Dulcy looked at her oddly for a second, then nodded and took a running start to get into the air. Uncle Chuck's joints creaked as he hung on.

Bunnie watched until they were just a tiny speck in the distance. Then she sat down in the grass. She didn't so much as move a muscle, not even to look away from the skyline, until Dulcy came back.

* * *

* * *

Mourning or not, the Freedom Fighters still had to keep watch of their borders. Bunnie rose when the moon was above the great oak and grubbed about for a hairbrush. More than once she'd gone out in a hurry, without combing her hair, and resembled somebeast dragged through a hedge backwards. Irritatingly, those were the times she was relieving Sonic, and he never missed a chance to remark on it. She was just _asking_ for trouble by not making herself presentable first.

She stopped with the brush halfway to her head. Oh. Yeah. Right. Sonic wouldn't be making any more remarks about her hair. He wouldn't be making any more remarks, period.

Her life was going to be filled with things like that from now on. Little things, previously quite negligible, but which would prey on her mind until she stopped and reminded herself _why_ they now felt wrong.

She readied herself quickly and made her way to the lookout post. She was early, but she hadn't been able to sleep, and she couldn't see anyone turning down a chance to give up before time.

She paused at the edge of the village, in the lee of Sonic and Sally's huts. Nobody had actually gone into Sonic's yet, but someone had thoughtfully pulled the door shut. He always left it ajar when he rushed out, whether because he forgot to close it properly or because it banged open again with impetus. It was both comforting and saddening to see it closed all the way. It gave the illusion he was safe inside, sleeping, while at the same time saying very loudly that he was never coming home again.

Sally's hut was dark, which could have meant anything. She wasn't due on watch until well after dawn, but the lights in Antoine's place had been on when Bunnie passed, and she was willing to bet Rotor was in his workshop, and Dulcy pacing her shed. Had Rosie not lived on the other side of the village, she might also have seen the light on in the spare bedroom where Tails was staying. Sleep was not a good bedfellow for grief.

She didn't like to think of Sonic, cold and alone in the ground. But she thought of it anyway, because she could hear the splash of water, and it reminded her of the power-ring pool.

She neared the river and looked around, half expecting to see Sally standing on the bridge. It wouldn't be the first time she'd found her there on her way to the lookout. In the last few years Sally had gotten into the habit of standing in the middle and watching the moon play on the water to clear her thoughts. It was a good place to think. Sally used it to just get away from the responsibilities of being a Freedom Fighter, if only for a handful of moments. As children they'd shared a room, and talked themselves into exhaustion when they couldn't sleep. After they grew up enough to get their own huts, their midnight chats shifted to that spot on the bridge. Moonlight bred clarity of mind, but it also bred talkativeness.

However, tonight it was empty, and Bunnie had to conclude that Sally had indeed gone to bed. There would be no idle chatter this moon, nor for a long time if Sally's odd behaviour kept up.

She'd gone back to Sonic's grave after Dulcy returned, but Sally never came back. When she finally returned to the village, Bunnie had found her poring over maps of Robotroplis, pointing out possible access points and relays and arguing with Nicole. She'd had no time for 'idle chitchat', and Bunnie had left with an odd, cramped sort of feeling in the pit pf her belly.

Now she watched a dead leaf float by and shivered.

She got the shock of her life when she approached the forest beyond the village. To the left was a well-concealed path, along which Freedom Fighters travelled to reach the latest training area. They kept having to move location to pre-empt Robotnik's stealth bots and orbs, and this one sat some way down the riverbank, in the shade of two large trees – a rowan and a silver birch. Sonic had picked the spot, and stretched a rope net between the two as part of an assault course to keep them in tiptop shape.

There should have been nobody there, but by twitching her ears Bunnie could hear the sound of someone running the course. It was unmistakable, and she hesitated only a second before turning off her intended route and ducking under the bushes to find the path.

She moved from shadow to shadow, as she'd been taught, avoiding large stretches of open space and keeping an eye out for anything unusual. A scout's job didn't start at the top of the lookout post, but from the very moment he or she stepped out their front door.

There was so much crouching and dashing involved, though, that her body began to protest. The flesh and blood parts of her healed only as fast as any other beast, and the disastrous raid of the night before had left her more than a little knocked around. Bruising, mostly, but it was extensive and scattered. A thoughtful medical professional could have learned quite a bit about pressure points by marking the centre of each new contusion.

Eventually she came to the edge of a small dell, where she hid behind the thick screenage of a gorse bush. The river lapped rhythmically down and to her left, and she measured her breathing accordingly, until in-breath and out-breath weren't competing with external noises but flowing alongside them. This made listening a great deal more precise – even for someone with ears like hers. Nobody should be out this way at this time of night. Therefore, caution was a beast's best friend.

Footsteps – correction, light footsteps. Not a SWATbot, then. Those palookas trod heavier than an elephant on eggshells. Whatever it was out there was small, perhaps no bigger than herself. It moved from one side of the dell to the other and back again with surprising speed – nothing approaching Sonic's talents, mind, but enough to make Bunnie mentally prepare few combat moves before poking her head out.

What she saw gave her pause. She presented her back to the gorse bush, but there was no mistaking Sally's red hair and tiny shape. She flipped delicately into a handspring, vaulting over the shallow pit in the centre of the clearing. Bunnie breathed a sigh of relief and stepped into view.

In the moment before she was spotted, she studied Sally's face. Her was dishevelled, bangs soaked with sweat, and there were small tufts on her cheeks and forehead where she'd run her hands through her fur and made it damp. She had the look of one who'd been training for hours without break, much like Tails that time last season when he came out here alone. He'd fooled everyone in charge of his chores that he was running errands for everyone else, then scuttled away for a good five hours of solid workout. When they finally cottoned on and found him, he'd been so exhausted he had to ride on Sonic's back the whole way back to Knothole.

Sally landed gracefully, then paused and sniffed the air. Bunnie wasn't even trying to hide herself, nor to keep downwind, so she was caught in the resultant sharp glance.

"Bunnie." It was said as if it were hello.

"Sally girl," Bunnie replied.

They stared at each other for a moment, there in the half-shadow, less than a dozen feet between them. Bunnie shifted her feet and broke the silence.

"Y'know, anyone could've heard that racket you was makin' an' come for a look-see."

"I can take care of myself."

She arched an eyebrow. "Uh-huh." Her tone didn't muster much in the way of conviction. Standing still, it was easy to see Sally's trembling muscles. A tendon in her upper arm twitched. One in her calf jumped like a jackrabbit on hot coals.

Sally stamped her foot and pushed hair from her eyes. "Did you want something?"

Bunnie shook her head. "Just to see who was out here. I was on my way to the lookout. Thought I'd best check the place while I had time."

Sally nodded; a brusque action, like a choirmaster pleased with the work of a previously failing alto. Then she walked back to the beginning of the assault course and spent a few moments stretching out her abused knees and elbows.

Bunnie watched her start again without comment. First came the rope swing over the mud-hole, then a run across open space, then scaling the rowan to reach the netting, which had to be negotiated before you could drop to the ground and crawl through a mass of haphazard cables that formed a sort of maze. Then there followed a series of long jumps with short run-ups, culminating in crossing the pit in the centre. The idea was that you had to pace yourself, saving enough energy to tackle the pit without falling in. It was supposed to teach Freedom Fighters the importance of stamina, as well as building up their muscles. Rotor and Sonic had spent weeks devising the exercises in between raids and chores, making sure each piece was thorough without being lethal.

Sally ran it three times without stopping. On the fourth go, she jogged on the spot at the end of the maze, fixing Bunnie with a searching eye. "Aren't you meant to be on watch?"

"I'm early," Bunnie shrugged. "I got time."

"Glad one of us does."

She bit her lip. "Sally girl - "

"Save it. I have to finish."

Despite not being the strongest, or fastest beast, Sally still had enough strength in her body to wrestle her way through the course. She wouldn't have lasted five minutes as leader if she couldn't hold her own on missions, strategic prowess or not. Knothole's Freedom Fighter Force was not famed for leading from the rear, and if she held any hope of maintaining her rank then she had to be in the best physical condition she could be.

Bunnie remembered how, when they were kids, Sally had cried when Old Marley refused to teach her the same martial arts as the others. He'd said it was because she was a princess, and blue bloods didn't do such unrefined things. They always had people around to protect them. That had been around the time Antoine took it upon himself to become her bodyguard – a misguided and redundant notion, since Sally just grilled Bunnie every evening when she came home, forcing her to repeat all she'd learned so she could learn it, too.

It was a system that worked, for the most part. Sally would spend the day doing princessly things, among them needlepoint and literature study. Her primary argument – "Why do I have to learn about old playwrights when we're living in a refugee camp in the woods?" – was ignored right from the get-go, so she sank into obedience and spent her free afternoons reading whatever she could get her hands on from the rescued book supply. She gobbled up books on history and tactical combat of ages past, forcing herself to become an expert in guerrilla warfare. After supper, she and Bunnie would practise their _kata _until Rosie's last inspection forced them to dive into bed. Sometimes they would bounce from under the covers again once she was gone, resuming their practise until they were virtually asleep on their feet.

It worked for several months, until Cat wondered why his pupil was falling asleep over her work. He and Rosie both lay in wait outside Sally and Bunnie's bedroom window, catching them in the act. After that, Sally was allowed to join in with what other kids had lasted Old Marley's training, provided she didn't slack on her studies.

Bunnie missed Old Marley. And Cat. And one of these days, she knew, she was going to miss Rosie just as much. The events of the last two days had hammered home the truth of her own mortality. Everyone had to die sometime.

Sally stumbled a little when she landed from her handspring. On impulse, Bunnie stepped towards her, but stopped when Sally raised a hand. She was forced to watch as her best friend braced her palms on her thighs, breathing hard and raspy, then again as she stepped out to start the assault course once more.

"I think you done enough for one night, Sally girl," Bunnie opined, unable to keep her silence.

Sally just grunted.

"You're gonna fall down if'n you don't stop soon. An' then I'll have to carry you back to Knothole."

Another grunt.

"Sally girl - "

"For Mobius's sake, shut _up_!"

Bunnie fell silent.

Sally started running again.

Bunnie's body was only half metal. The rest, the flesh and bone and muscle, was taut with exercise. She felt it every time she moved. When she rolled out of bed, when she bent to pick something up, when she clung to Dulcy's back, when she breathed in – every movement was a reminder. Her robot parts only compounded the sensation. She felt like a weapon.

Sally panted and fought her way through the assault course like she wanted to make her only-flesh body as tough as Bunnie's. She stumbled twice before she even reached the rowan tree. Once she'd scaled it, one of her feet slipped through the netting, leaving her to dangle by her fingertips for a few seconds. Just as Bunnie was considering going to help, Sally heaved herself back into play and waged gamely on.

She finished with a sloppy somersault, the foot that had slipped through the net trailing. When she stopped to catch her breath, Bunnie noticed a thin line of blood on the shin above the boot.

"Sally girl, enough's enough. Y'all got yourself injured, now. Hold still so's I can take a gander at it - "

"Leave me alone," Sally growled, pulling away. Limping only slightly, she made for the start of the course again.

Bunnie, exasperated and worried, planted herself in the way. "Nu-uh. You're done."

"Get out of my way, Bunnie." Sally tried to slip around her, but Bunnie was surprisingly quick, blocking each attempt. "I have to go again."

"Why?"

"Because I have to."

"Nope. Sorry, t'ain't a good enough reason."

"Bunnie, _move_." Sally stamped her foot like a spoilt child, but her voice held a pleading note. "_Please_."

"What, so you can go run yourself ragged again? No siree."

"I have to go again. I have to get it right." She folded her arms, cupping her elbows with her hands. Her eyes ticked between Bunnie and the floor.

Bunnie shook her head. "Seems like you done enough for one night. You'll not be gettin' no better if'n you injure yourself worse 'n that li'l scratch." She indicated to the cut, which wasn't as bad close up as it had seemed from a distance. "Besides, you gotta get that cleaned up. Ain't you never heard of blood poisonin'?"

Sally glared at her, and for a moment Bunnie thought she was going to pull rank to make her move. Much good as it would have done her – Bunnie was loyal to the House of Acorn, but not if it insisted on doing something as needless and stupid as this. She'd already lost one friend. She wasn't about to let another kill herself with fatigue and bull-headedness.

She had an instant's warning. A barely perceptible movement of Sally's leg told her the other girl was going to spring to her right. Bunnie's body reacting without direction, moving smoothly into a counter. She stepped forward, inside the attack, and deflected it with a minor palm block. Without thinking she then contorted herself upwards and struck at the inner side of Sally's arm, hitting the nerves to try and numb the thumb. It was only when Sally made a noise like a small bird hitting a wall that she realised what she was doing.

Bunnie jumped away like she'd been burned, hands flying to her mouth. "M'gosh, Sally, I'm sorry!" One of the things she had learned when she got her robotic limbs; she was never to use them on another Freedom Fighter – never, never, never. The most benign martial arts she'd learned as a kit were potentially deadly if delivered with the force of a steel-alloy limb.

But Sally wasn't listening. She didn't even acknowledge that she'd just tried to hit her best friend. She just stood there, clutching her right arm below where Bunnie had deadened it. Her face was tipped towards the floor, obscuring her expression.

"Sally - "

Sally's good hand clenched into a fist. "I have to get it right. He always comes and tells me what's wrong if I'm not doing it properly. So I have to learn to get it right on my own now. I have to get it right, because he's not going to come and tell me anymore. He's not... he's not coming back..." Then she let out a choked sob and crumpled to the floor like a marionette with all its strings cut.

Bunnie was at her side in an instant. "Sally – Sally girl..." She curled her flesh arm around Sally's shoulders, hesitant in case she was batted away. Yet Sally stayed hunched in on herself, barely seeming to register Bunnie's presence at all. Sob after juddering sob wracked her body, and suddenly she seemed much smaller than she ever had since they were kits.

Bunnie didn't know what to do. Sure, she'd worried about Sally not grieving like everyone else, but this... Sally rarely cried, or gave way to excessive shows of emotion. Even in the most stressful moments, she seemed to have an inborn talent for holding herself together, for facing up to the darkest truths. She was a Princess, heir to the crown of Acorn. She was strong. She was leader of the Knothole Freedom Fighters. She'd grown up passed from pillar to post and shunted from nanny to nanny because her mother died in childbirth. She'd had her birthright ripped away by a power-hungry madman. She'd been helpless to save her subjects from being roboticised. She'd seen her own father half turned to crystal and forced to live in the Void, and she'd come back to the village from it with a joke on her lips.

But she was only mortal.

Bunnie held Sally tight as she dared, allowing her to sniff and snot onto her front like they'd both done to Rosie when they skinned their knees and bumped their heads so many years ago. And all of a sudden, Bunnie felt a shift in the atmosphere. It was as if some piece of Sally that even _she _hadn't been aware of had spent her life since Robotnik's coup tensed as a bowstring, just waiting until it could let go. It had been waiting for something like this – the first cut of the knife. The last kiss goodnight. So much had pent up behind it that now it came out in a rush, clogging the exits and convulsing Sally's body so much in an effort to free itself that Bunnie was afraid she might completely break apart.

After a few moments Sally clutched helplessly at her, seeking support. Bunnie gave it with as close to one of Sonic's special pick-up hugs as she could – the everything's-gonna-be-just-fine specials, and she couldn't even remember how old they'd been when she started calling them that, but it really didn't matter anymore. She just knelt with Sally's arms around her, tethering her to the ground while flushed her pent-up emotion from her body.

It took a long while, but eventually the intervals between the judders increased. Bunnie waited until the worst seemed passed, and then slowly released her friend. Sally unclenched her fingers from where they'd been knotted in the fur on Bunnie's back. Bunnie winced, but said nothing, all thoughts of relieving the lookout temporarily wiped from her mind.

"He's not coming back," Sally whispered.

"No," Bunnie replied hoarsely. "He ain't."

"He's really gone this time. He's really..." Sally stopped, arms wrapping around her own chest. She rocked herself to and fro. "He's gone, Bunnie. He's really gone. We lost him. _I _lost him."

"No, you didn't, sweetie. You didn't do nuthin' of the sort. This ain't your fault. Y'hear me?" Bunnie turned Sally's face towards her. "It ain't your fault. We always knew this could happen – to any of us. Sonic knew the risks. He did."

Sally stared at her. Her eyes were all pupil, like she was scared, and they held a faraway look, as if she were sleepwalking. "He's gone, Bunnie. And I'm so selfish, because I'm not thinking of him."

"You're not?"

"I'm thinking of me. I'm thinking that I missed my chance – my _shot_ at... this. The big brass ring. Romance. Love. Marriage. Because I've really been kind of an idiot for... for most of my _life_. So eager to get into battle and kick Robotnik's butt I never stopped to appreciate... I wanted things to be back the way they were so _badly_. I never... I never said... never did half the things I... And now he's gone, and it hurts. It hurts, Bunnie. It hurts so much..." Her eyes brimmed with fresh tears.

"And it's gonna hurt for a long time," Bunnie murmured. It was the only thing she could think to say, and it sounded pointless and stupid.

"I thought that if I just acted like nothing was wrong, it'd stop hurting. But it doesn't work. He's still gone. And I can't even ask why, because there's no reason to it. And I _know_ that. I know life and death are arbitrary. But still, I... it's not _fair._ How can Robotnik still be here when Sonic isn't? How can this be happening?"

Bunnie didn't know what to say that wouldn't sound like another meaningless palliative. Words were hollow. So she just reached out and took Sally's hand in her own non-metal one.

Sally bent her head, throat bobbing. Her face was shadowed, but Bunnie could still see its clean lines, the strong but delicate features and the tension in her jaw.

"It isn't fair."

Bunnie nodded.

"It hurts."

Another nod.

"We're ruined, Bunnie. We're finished. I... I don't know if I can do this anymore. What's the point in fighting if the end doesn't have...? What's the point in fighting if Robotnik destroys us along the way? Who wins something like that?"

Bunnie bit her lip. "I'm sure it'd be in better words, but I think Sugar-hog would be mighty upset to hear y'all say that, sugar."

"What?"

"Think about it. He gave his life so's we could be free someday. How d'ya think he'd feel, if'n he could see us now an' hear y'all thinkin' 'bout throwin' in the towel?"

Sally didn't answer for a long second. "I don't know if I can - ".

"You can," Bunnie cut her off. "We all can. It'll be hard, but we'll do it. Buttnick shouldn't get the last laugh. It'd be like spittin' on Sonic's grave if'n we let that madman carry on like he is." She took a strengthening breath. "How many more heroes'd die if'n we jus' gave up the ghost, Sally girl? How many more beasts gotta suffer 'cause of Buttnick afore someone puts him back in his place?"

Another long second passed. Sally slid her hand out from under Bunnie's and held it protectively to her chest. "This war was never meant to be about revenge. But look at us. Look at what we've become. We're not killers, Bunnie. We were never meant to be soldiers."

"Who's to say what we were an' weren't s'posed to be? Life gave us this bag of beans. Now we gotta plant 'em an' see what grows. Might be pretty, come Springtime."

But Sally shook her head. "I don't want to be responsible for anymore... death. No more dying. No more roboticising. No more getting patched up, just to go out again and reopen the stitches. It's too much, Bunnie. It's..."

"We ain't like Robotnik, sugar. We ain't killers. We jus' want a place we can grow old in, peaceful-like."

"Sonic won't be growing old."

Bunnie could have smacked herself. "No," she admitted. "He won't."

A long silence followed. If there had been blood flow to her legs, it would have been cut off by now. Still, she shifted uncomfortably, as if she had pins and needles.

"Bunnie," Sally said at last.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think he _can_ see us?"

"I dunno. Maybe." Bunnie had never really thought about the afterlife. She knew some beasts found it comforting to think that this life wasn't it, the be all and end all – that there was some reward for all they'd suffered. She supposed she wanted to believe there was something else, but wanting to believe and actually believing are very different things.

"Do you think he'd want us to pack up and leave?" Sally rubbed at her bum arm. "Find someplace else to live, I mean."

"What about your pappy?"

"I... I don't know what would happen with him. Maybe the Void could be opened somewhere else. But do you think _Sonic _would want us to leave? Maybe there's someplace else we can go – someplace safer. Somewhere Robotnik hasn't reached yet."

"What if he reaches it in the future? With nobody to fight him in his backyard, it could happen a lot sooner than not."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Bunnie sighed. "I reckon... I reckon Sonic would ask for a chilli-dog afore he told us anythin'."

A strange little laugh percolated in Sally's throat. "He probably would, yeah." Then she threw back her head and looked at the sky between the treetops. "I'm just fooling myself, aren't I? There's nowhere else to go that Robotnik wouldn't find, given time." A leftover tear trickled sideways down her temple to be lost in her wet hair. "We either roll over and give up, or consign ourselves to a life of fighting where... this can happen."

Bunnie waited, unsure of what to do or say. She wasn't used to being the strong one – not emotionally. Especially not with Sally. That was Sonic's bag. He was – had been – a lot of things, but he'd always listened when she needed to talk, and he always seemed to know what to do, even when he didn't.

"I miss him."

"We all do, girl."

"I don't want to go back yet."

"We got time."

"You're meant to be on watch."

"Right." Bunnie hesitated, and then got to her feet. "But I ain't leavin' you here alone."

Sally faltered, turning her eyes from the sky and blinking rapidly. Her mouth opened and shut a few times, before she let out a breath and got up. She stumbled, but Bunnie caught her and propped her up again.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it, darlin'."

They moved off down the path. When they neared the turn-of to the village, Sally pulled back a little.

"Can we...?"

Bunnie noticed where her eyes travelled. She nodded, carefully escorting her friend along the other trail, under a set of low branches and bracken, towards where a makeshift marker was wedged in a mound of loose soil.

Sally stared at the grave for a long time. She knelt beside it, placed both hands on it, and wept silent tears. These were not the uncontrolled sobs of earlier, but a quiet and dignified sorrow – the kind she hadn't even allowed herself to acknowledge until now.

Bunnie moved up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "It ain't the big brass ring, Sally girl," she said softly, "but it's still pretty shiny."

Sally tensed, then relaxed and twisted around in a thoroughly gymnastic manoeuvre to lay her palm over Bunnie's. "Yeah," she replied. "I know."

And for the moment, it would have to do.

* * *

* * *

FINIS.

* * *

* * *


End file.
